


The Hunter, the Governess, and the Wardrobe

by Lumikettu



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Hell, Gen, i mean literally
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:19:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumikettu/pseuds/Lumikettu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean though it was just another easy job. Turns out that a monster in a wardrobe is not always such an easy deal after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monster in the Wardrobe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fictionally_inclined_character](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictionally_inclined_character/gifts).



> This story is an ongoing process. A SLOW ongoing process. And a crossover hell. Yikes.

It should have been an easy job. A child saying there was something in her closet. Weird sounds coming from the nursery. Lights flickering. You know, something simple for a change. The family had gone to a vacation, so he had planned to snuck in to do the bussiness and snuck out again, with no one the wiser. That had been the plan. But even good plans can fail.  
She was tapping her foot to the hardwood floor, hands folded in front of her in a way only a pissed off woman can, and her face setting into a hard look. Dean had forgotten to count the governess into his plans. Or the fact that she could be holding an iron poker.

”Uh, heh, I can explain this...” Dean starts and conjures up a nervous smile.

”Oh really? Please do.” She looks at him incrediously. Her frizzled hair was untangling itself from the tight bun, making her remind him of a dandelion. He wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light or if the girl's hair was really white, but the black streak on her forehead looked like a frizzled lightning.

”Well, you see... Uh...” Dean was trying to come up with a good excuse. He cursed Sam, who was snuggled down in the Bunker for having a cold. Sam could come up with a lie. Dean licked his lips nervously.

”It's really rude to keep people waiting you know.” She said. Her voice poked Dean in all the wrong ways. He could feel himself tensing up.

”Look, you won't believe me if I tell the truth, but you just gotta trust me.” Dean decided to went to the truth. Well, almost to the truth.

”Try me.” She smirked at him. Well, you never knew.

”I think there's something in this house. Something that wants to hurt the people living here.” Dean confessed. She looked at him placidly. Dean had waited on her to call him crazy and threat to call the police, but she was doing neither. She was just watching him as to wait if he had more to say. As the silence grew longer she shifted her weight a little and took a deep breath.

”You mean boogeymen?”

”Could be, I'm not....”

”Because none of the boogeymen dare enter this house.”

Dean looked at the girl with his mouth open. Had she just confessed knowing about the supernatural? She looked back at him with a non chalant expression of a person dealing with ordinary household issues.

”Wha-, I mean how...” Dean started while he was still trying to gather his thoughts.

”They fear the poker.” She said and brandished the iron poker. Dean could very well believe that anyone could be afraid to that, but boogeymen weren't that easy to deal with. Not always. He opened his mouth to say something else when the door opened and a little boy walked in. He was wearing a bunny pyjama.

”What's the matter, Eric?” She asked the child.

”There's a monter in my wardrobe, Susan.” the boy said sleepily. ”He keeps rattling with the knob and I can't sleep.”

Dean realized that something was terribly amiss in this situation. The kid was talking about a monster in his closet like it was a normal occasion, and the girl just gave deep sigh about it. No one was saying that mosters are not real, or screaming. Dean was complitely out of his league here.

”Alright, I'm coming up.” Susan said to the boy and turned to Dean. ”Well, since you are already here, you might as well finish the job.” She motioned Dean to follow them upstairs.

The little boy's room was furnised like all little boys rooms with pale blue walls and enough small car toys and legos on the floor to slow down an advancing army. The kid didn't climb back to bed, but sat on the toy chest at the end of his bed and looked expectantly at the rattling knob on the huge wardrobe. It made Dean really uncomfortable. This was not the way it was supposed to go. He wasn't used to having an interested audience in his hunts. Sam had nearly pissed his pants the first time he'd been hunting, and this kid looked like he was expecting a circus to roll to town.  
Susan had walked to the other side of the wardrobe and signed Dean to take the other side. As Dean positioned himself, she reached for the knob, and yanked the door open. There was a yelp and something round rolled onto the carpet. It gave another yelp as it tried to stand on it's scrawny legs, but stood on a pile of legos, jumped back just to hit a the barrage of tiny cars that zinged into every direction. The whole spectacle was like something out of a Charlie Chaplin movie, as the round creature tried to get it's bearing and get flopping over on the toy ridden floor.  
As Susan and Dean stared with their eyes wide of the scene before them, little Eric was laughing like a child watching his favourite show. Dean vaquely realized that he was even clapping his little hands.  
Finally the toys had been scattered to the sides of the room and the round creature was finally able to find it's legs. Dean could swear he heard it muttering something nasty about the amount of toys kids these days had. Then it swung around with a ”ta-da”.  
It only had one eye. One huge eye and a mouth that shared the round shape, and a pair of hands and feet sticking out of it. Dean dared to a quick glance at Susan. The girl seemed just as perplexed as he was. This monster wasn't anything like he'd faced before. It wasn't nasty, nor vicious, nor bloodthirsty. It seemed almoust cute. And green.  
The creature seemed to have realized that little Eric was not in the room alone. The kid was jumping excitedly on his makeshift bench. The creature gave a wide, nervous grin.

”Uh, is this Eric of Toledo, Ohio, age 6?” the creature's voice had a small nasal quality to it Dean noted. ”And is it Friday 12th of March?”

”No, it's Saturday the 13th. And this is not Toledo.” Susan said with a blank voice. Dean could see her squeezing the handle of the poker. He could not sense fear out of her, but irritation.

”.. Oh, I'm sorry, it seems we are having some technical issues. I'll just be going then. Do excuse the intrusion.” The creature said and sprinted into the wardrobe. Before either Dean or Susan could recover their senses enough, little Eric gave a small delighted shriek, jumped from the toy chest, and vanished into the wardrobe after the round creature. Susan gave a yelp, dropped the poker and dived after the boy, but he was just too fast for her. Little kids are like that; fast and unpredictable.

”Come on, pretty boy!” Her voice snapped Dean back to his senses. He grabbed a hold of her arm before she dived to the wardrobe and pulled her back. She turned to face him with a snarl on her face. Dean let go and lifted up his arms.

”Hold a moment. We don't know what's on the other side of that – I can't believe I'm saying this – wardrobe.” He said to her and motioned to the dark doorway.

”I gotta get that kid back.” She said. Her hair was only namely in a bun anymore.

”I know, but we don't know if it's Narnia out there!” Dean couldn't believe his own words. This was storybook stuff, not the stuff he was grown up with. Where were his demons, vampires, and ghosts?

”Then what do you suggest?” She asked him and places her hands on her hips, as if readying herself to confront him. This girl was not to be messed with.

”We ready ourselves.” Dean said. Susan looked at him and picked up the poker she had dropped and weighed it on her hand. Then she glanced at him.

”You need something?” She asked him. Dean went through the list of weapons on his person, the small knives against his calfs, the familiar feel of the gun against his back.

”Yeah, one thing. Wait here.” He said and went down the stairs. He hand't been sure what creature was lurking in the wardrobe, so he had brought the usual arsenal with him in a duffel that he had left downstairs. He picked it up and head back up. He was mildly surprised that she hadn't left without him, but he noticed that she was holding the door open as if to reasure herself that the doorway would not slam shut on them.

”Ready?” she asked him.

”Ready.” He replied.

And they walked into the wardrobe.


	2. Into the wardrobe.. and out the rabbit hole?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Susan follow little Eric through the wardrobe into an unfamiliar land filled with snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this chapter ready for a while. But you might have to wait for chapter 3 for a longer while, as I keep rewriting it.

Susan pushed the old coats out of the way. The wardrobe was proving out to be a lot bigger than she had thought. There were coats so old they were barely holding up in their coat hangers. And it was getting darker the further away from the wardrobe door they got. Susan’s boot struck something and she almost lost her footing. The burglar she had caught right in the act grabbed a hold of her arm and hold her up as she found her footing.

“Thank you.” She said courtly and tested the floor. She was surprised to notice that the floor was no longer wooden, but dirt.

“Hold up a moment.” He said. He had a surprisingly deep voice. She heard him rustle through his pockets, and then light sprung up. He had pulled out his lighter and was now checking their whereabouts. Susan looked around herself. She could still see the coats behind her, and the wooden flooring of the bigger than usual wardrobe, but what was in front of them was definitely a tunnel. Which was utterly ridiculous. The wardrobe was on the second floor on of the house, well above the ground.

“Well, this is strange.” He said. 

“You could say that.” Susan agreed. “Do you have a knife?”

“Sure, why?” He asked and pulled a knife from his bag. It was a strange knife. The blade was curved and it had strange sigils eched into it. Susan raised her eyebrows at it.

“You do know that any kitchen knife will do the trick, right?” she said and bend down to scoop a handful of her petticoat. 

“Not my experience.”

“Really?” She said as she cut into the fabric. Most of the cotton petticoat was easy to rip by hands, but the seams were sturdy enough that she needed the knife to go through them. She stood up and handed the knife back to him. She tied the rags onto to the other side of her poker. “You’re only gonna burn your fingers with that thing.” She said and held the rags on the lighter flame. She turned the burning makeshift torch towards the tunnel. She heard him flip the lighter shut.

“What’s with the Victorian get-up?” He asked as they headed forward. He had to walk with his head bowed down due to the low ceiling.

“What do you mean get-up?” She asked puzzled. She was wearing her governess clothes, white button up shirt, black vest, and a long black skirt. Her boots were practical and conveniently, black. Considering her heritage, she was breaking rules with the white shirt.

“You know, with the whole Bride of Frankenstein thing.”

“Bride of who?” Susan looked over her shoulder at him. He looked a little uncomfortable under her stare. But then again, lots of people did. It amused her a little sometimes, but normally she just wanted people to treat her.. well, normal.

“With the hair and everything..” His voice trailed off, while he was still gesturing over his head. He licked his lips and let the arm drop. “Nevermind.” 

They continued in silence for a while. The tunnel kept narrowing as they proceeded. Soon even Susan had to bow her head to pass through it. The man behind her was not having it easy. She head the scraping of loose stone and silent cursing.

“You ok back there, burglar?” She asked him and glanced over her shoulder. There was not much room to turn and have a look. He was a lot bigger than she was, and with the duffel on his back, he had to walk in a crouch.

“It’s Dean, and I’ll manage.” He huffed through his teeth. She could see his face glistening with sweat.

“I’m Susan.”

“Hi there Susan! Any sign of a way out of this? Besides going backwards?”

“Not yet, but I though I smelled fresh air a moment ago.” Susan said as she pushed onwards. The tunnel suddenly started to lead upwards. Susan got a hold of her skirt to keep it from tangling to her feet. It was a steep climb that left them both breathless in the bad air. The light was slowly dimming from the makeshift torch.

“Dean, I think there’s somekind of opening a little futher away.” Susan said and peered in front of her.

“I’m sensing that there’s a but in here.” He said behind her and chuckled at the bad pun. Susan rolled her eyes.

“It’s gonna get a little tight before we get there.”

“That’s how it usually goes.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“No. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Susan didn’t say anything to that. The last few feet she had to crawl on all fours to get through. She glanced behind her to see if Dean could follow her through the small space. He had taken the duffel from his shoulder and was pushing it in front of him as the crawled forward. There was a slight clanking sound from the bag. She made a note to take a look at it. He was a burglar after all.  
She could see the opening clearly now. The makeshift torch was barely giving light anymore, but there was a pale glow coming in from the opening. A sharp breeze of cold air brushed against Susan's face. She crawled forward, and the tunnel kept narrowing. She could hear Dean grunting as he pushed himself forward in the narrow space. Susan had to get down on her stomach to crawl through the small opening and into the fresh night air. It was freezingly cold, and there was snow under her hands as she pushed herself up from the ground. She turned and helped Dean get the duffel through. As Dean pushed himself through some of the opening fell apart and he left behind a crumbling hole. He stood up dusting his coat.

“Alright, where are we?” He asked. Susan looked around herself. They were in the middle of a forest, that was for sure, but something seemed askew to her. Like everything normal about it had taken a slightly left turn. Snow was gently drifting down from the dark sky.

“Well, it’s not Ankh-Morpork, that’s for sure.” Susan said.

“Ankh-what?” Dean looked at her puzzled.

“Did you hit your head or something? The house on Sator Square?” She asked him as she knocked the last smoldering embers of the cotton rags off the poker. The snow sizzled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but the house I entered was in Salem, Massachusetts.” Dean turned to face her.

“I don’t know a place called Salem.”

“Seriously? Salem witch trials ring any bells?”

“Who in their right mind would try to prosecute a witch?” Susan looked at him. Witches weren’t particularly nasty, but you still would never want to get on the bad side of one. “Besides the plains are too soft for witchcraft to flourish, you need hard ground of the mountains.”

“What are you talking about? Witches drive their power from demon origins, and channel it through bones, and blood, and bits of animals. It’s downright unsanitary!”

“That’s voodoo!”

“No it’s not!”

“Yes, it is! Witchcraft is more.. headology and basic medicine skills! There’s nothing unsanitary about it!”

They stood there staring at each other for a while. Susan was impressed. This guy could withhold looking directly into her eyes and not budge. Dean let out a deep breath.

“Look here, Susan. I don’t know what’s going on, all I know, is that I entered an empty house in Salem, busting in to get rid of an angry spirit, and the next this I know is that there’s a girl brandishing an iron poker at me.”

”Then why did you come with me into the wardrobe?” Susan asked.

”I wasn't going to let you go alone into closet after I saw a green thingy pop out of it!”

”I can take care of myself.”

”I'm not doubting that.” Dean said. ”Can you see the kid?”

Susan looked around. There were fresh footprints in the snow leading into the forest. ”I guess he went that way.”

”Then lets go.” Dean said and picked up his duffel. They followed the footprints into the forest in silence.

Dean turned around when he heard Susan yelp. She was lying flat on the ground and by the sound of it, cursing under her breath. Dean took a few steps back and kneeled beside her.

”You ok?” Dean asked while Susan was propping herself on her elbows.

”I think so. I just slipped on a root.” She said while getting ready to get up.

”Hold a moment.” Dean said and reached towards her legs. ”You managed to get your foot stuck between the roots.” He explained as she shot him a look.

”I can disentangle it myse-....” Susan's voice died away as she tugged her foot, but it stayed firmly stuck between the roots.

”Stop that! You'll only hurt yourself!” Dean snapped at her and grapped a hold of her foot.

”But normally.....” Susan started while Dean was tugging at the roots. She carefully turned herself so she could reach the duffel Dean had lowered on the ground. Dean watched from the corner of his eye as Susan put her palm on the duffel and knitted her brow in concentration. Nothing happened.

”What are you doing?” He asked while wiggling Susan's foot free.

”I just... Hey!” Susan began, but cut it short as Dean had pulled the shoe from her foot and was feeling her ankle.

”Relax. I'm just checking that you didn't sprain it.” Dean said non-chalantly. ”What were you doing with the bag?” He nodded towards the duffel.

”Just testing something..!” Susan gave a little shriek as Dean's hand brushed againts her sole and she yanked her foot free. They stared at each other for a silent moment. ”I'm sorry... That tickled....”

Dean smirked and rolled his eyes. ”Well anyway it doesn't seem to be sprained.”

Susan pulled her boot back on and stood up.

”How's it feeling?” Dean asked.

”A tad bit sore, but that's about it.” Susan said and tested her weight on the leg. ”Shall we keep going?”

”Yeah, there's a bit more light up ahead.” Dean pointed as they started to walk again.

They didn't walk far when they came to a clearing. In the middle of it stood a lamppost that illuminated the air around them in a warm, golden light.

”Well... That's a bit disturbing..” Dean muttered as they stepped closer to the lamp. Susan wandered off to the left.

”Dean...” She called him. ”Eric's not alone anymore.” Susan continued and pointed to the ground. ”The footprints end here, and a trail of sledge tracks head into the forest.”

”You think Eric got into the sledge?” Dean asked and came to stand next to Susan.

”There's no sign of struggle, so he must have done it willingly.”

”It has nothing to do with willingness.”

Dean and Susan both jumped at the sound of a voice from behind them. They spun around and readied their weapons. The creature standing in the lamplight jolted to the sudden movement, and dived behind the lamppost. They could see it quivering. Susan gave Dean a glance and lowered her poker. Dean lowered his gun, but kept it in his hands, as they slowly approached the creature.

”Um... excuse me? What did you say?” Susan asked. The creature turned around and peaked from behind the post. It was a dirty brown hare.

”I said, it had nothing to do with willingness.” The hare kept findgeting and rubbing it's front paws while speaking.

”Is that bunny talking?” Dean asked and looked at Susan.

”Excuse me! I am a hare, not a bunny rabbit!” The hare huffed at Dean.

”Aren't they the same thing?”

”Same?! Look at these legs! Look at these ears! Ordinary house bunny cannot even compare to a hare in speed or grace! You, sir, are an ignorant peasant to call me a bunny!”

Dean took a step back at the outburst of the hare. He looked a bit taken a back to be insulted by a two feet tall creature.

”Why did you say Eric's willingness had nothing to with him getting on that sledge?” Susan interrupted before the Hare could continue it's rantings on the differences between hares and rabbits.

”It is the White Queen, she bewitches the children with candy that's the color of a rose. It smells so sweet that children cannot but taste it, and then she has them under her power.” the Hare said and rubbed it's nose.

”What would she want with children?” Susan said half to herself. The Hare fidgeted and was jumping back and forth.

”It is too dangerous to talk about the White Queen here. This way, come, come!” the Hare pounched towards the forest. It stopped at the edge of the circle of light and motioned them to follow. Dean and Susan looked at each other and walked off to the forest.


End file.
